


Let Me Down Easy

by galerian_ash



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Getting Together, Humor, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-28 00:34:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15696552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galerian_ash/pseuds/galerian_ash
Summary: Connor has something very important to show Hank.





	Let Me Down Easy

**Author's Note:**

> It's Connor's birthday today! Well, sort of, in any case! I definitely wanted to write a fic to celebrate, so here's a little something :)
> 
> Title borrowed from Chris Isaak's epononymous song, as [this live version](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_O5R85OVMcg) with its cute guest artist was what gave me the idea in the first place.

"Hank! Hank, wake up!"

Connor's frantic voice tore him from his sleep. He'd been dreaming something nice, but it was gone as soon as he opened his eyes and blinked blearily at Connor. "Whuh?"

"Hurry! They were heading this way! Shit, it might already be too late. You have to hurry, get up."

Training kicked in as his heart began to race. "Where's my gun?"

"What? You don't need your gun, come on." Connor grabbed his arm and tugged.

Hank let himself be dragged along, only digging his heels in — literally — when they got to the front door. "Wait a second, I'm barely dressed. I'm not going outside! What the hell, Connor?"

"It's fine, it's not cold. Just put on your shoes, here," he said, bending down and grabbing Hank's sneakers.

"Fuck," Hank swore as Connor abruptly took hold of one of his feet and lifted. He had to place his hand on the wall just to keep his balance, as Connor finished getting his shoes on.

And then out they went, Hank just wearing a T-shirt and boxers. It was apparently still early though, thankfully, as no one seemed to be around. There was a woman walking her dog on the other side of the road, but that was it.

"Look!" Connor said, pointing.

Hank looked. "At what? That woman?"

"No," Connor said, sounding annoyed, "the _dog_. Look at the dog, Hank!"

He did. It was small and white, the kind of dog that Sumo would accidentally crush if they ever were to play together. "I don't get it."

"He's wearing a little sweater, don't you see it?"

Oh. Connor was right. The dog was wearing a knitted sweater in bright pink. Hank stared at it dumbly. Understanding was slowly starting to filter through his brain.

"So you woke me up at ass o'clock," he began, only for Connor to interrupt him.

"It's 06:13 a.m."

"Yes, _like I said_ , ass o'clock," Hank said, rolling his eyes, "to look at a dog."

"In a sweater."

"In a sweater, yes," Hank conceded.

Connor seemed to consider this very carefully. His LED even turned yellow, spinning slowly as he thought. "I see," he finally said. "I understand now."

"Great. Mind filling me in?"

"I was taking Sumo for his morning walk when I saw the dog. I thought it was cute, and my first impulse was to get you. So you could see it, too. So you could share the moment with me. This is what humans do when they have someone special in their life. When they're in love."

Hank gaped at Connor. He was dangerously close to getting whiplash, or maybe just a plain ol' heart attack. "What is even happening," he muttered.

Connor turned to face him fully. He had a stiff and unnatural smile on his face, similar to the one he'd plastered on his face that first day at the station. "I'm in love with you, Hank. Have been for quite some time, I now realize."

Hank's stomach flipped. Maybe he was still asleep. He'd had dreams like this before, hadn't he? They had been a lot less deranged than this, though. Usually he was fully dressed, for starters — unless it was a really, really good dream. And also, usually the narrative made more sense. Well, as much sense as it _could_ make when something as implausible as Connor confessing to him was happening.

But maybe it wasn't as implausible as he'd thought.

"This is the first time I'll be rejected," Connor was saying. "The last time as well, because I don't believe I'll ever love anyone else. I suppose that's irrelevant, though — it's still the first. So, please, let me down easy."

Hank took a deep breath. "No, it's not."

"Excuse me?" Connor said, frowning slightly. "What do you mean?"

"It's not the first time, because I'm not about to reject you." That said, he reached out and pulled Connor in for a hug.

He really wanted to go for broke and kiss Connor instead, but the woman with the dog had stopped to stare at them. She was probably liable to call the cops if she saw him, an old and undressed slob, macking on a prim-looking young man.

"We should go inside," he mumbled.

Connor's arms were around his waist in a loose embrace, but upon hearing that one of his hands drifted down to Hank's ass. "Sounds like a good idea."


End file.
